


Caring Is What We Do

by Lothiriel84



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1389964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd barely set foot in 221B when its tenant shook his head in annoyance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caring Is What We Do

He’d barely set foot in 221B when its tenant shook his head in annoyance. “No way,” that was all the impossible man said before he started playing again.

“Well, good morning to you. I’d like to have a word, if you please.”

“Whatever you have to say, the answer is still ‘no’. No need to waste your time.”

Greg rolled his eyes and planted himself in front of his friend. “Put that violin down and listen to me.”

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Lestrade? I’m not going to be your best man, nor Mycroft’s for that matter. John’s wedding was more than enough.”

“He’s your brother, Sherlock.”

“Hence my refusal to have anything to do with it whatsoever.”

Holmeses. Always as stubborn as mules; it was probably a genetic trait inherent to their family.

“Who else do you think he’s going to ask?” Greg pointed out matter-of-factly. Mycroft didn’t do friendship, and the only person he truly cared about – with the possible exception of his soon-to-be husband – was his wayward little brother.

Sherlock merely shrugged in response. “There’s always his PA. I’m sure that Andrea would do a pretty good job if she set her mind to it.”

“That’s hardly the same. You know he won’t ask, and yet he wouldn’t want anyone else but you.”

Hesitation flickered across the younger man’s features, his mask of indifference slipping for the briefest of moments. “It’s your wedding, Greg. Surely you don’t want a repeat of the agony that was my last best man speech.”

He paused, vaguely noticing that Sherlock had got his name right for once. “You’re right, it’s my wedding. Would you do that for me, as a wedding gift?”

They stared at each other for a seemingly endless moment. “I won’t give a speech tough,” his future brother-in-law said warily, and he knew he had won.

“Fair enough. And, Sherlock? Thank you.”

The detective shrugged again and picked up his violin. It was only as he stepped out of the flat that Greg recognised the waltz that Sherlock had specifically composed for John’s wedding.


End file.
